


Who Are You Really

by MostlySane



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: BAMF!Stiles, Bloodplay, Body Horror, Danny get's his hands dirty, Derek is seduced to the dark side, Don't say you weren't warned!, Due to reasons, Gender Issues, Gore, Hermaphrodites, Knotting, M/M, Magic, Mastermind!Stiles, Minor Character Death, Multi, Neccesary OCs, Or actually only ONE hermaphrodite, Overabundance of tags, Possessive Behavior, Possible flashbacks, Revenge, Scott is not a total waste of space, Stiles doing bad bad things, The dead main character is not anyone you know, Topping from the Bottom, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, Warning: more stuff may be added as I see fit, dark!stiles, general BAMFiness by all involved, no actuall Sterek non-con, with blood
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-07
Updated: 2013-02-01
Packaged: 2017-11-20 14:32:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/586406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MostlySane/pseuds/MostlySane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles' mother was more than she appeared. And her death was as well. Now that he is looking into it, Stiles finds himself in places he never though he'd be, and becoming a person he never though he was. Literally.</p><p>But where does everyone else fit in, and how will they accept the new person replacing their friend?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Who Is My Mother?

CHAPTER ONE: WHO IS MY MOTHER?

[It was dark, and Genim was scared, but also not, as if he knew death was inevitable, but he knew he was gonna go down with guns blazing and glory on the flip side. A face, shriveled and wizened, lit creepily like a djinn appeared, floating in a sea of sterile white.  
"...Bubbelah, I want to tell you something." It was his mother, the night before she died.  
"These idiot doctors, they think it's some strange new variation of cancer, but we know better, don't we?"  
"Mama?" He was confused. She rolled her eyes, and he knew when she used to do it behind his father's back, it would crack him up, but with a thin face, she looked too much like a spooked horse.  
"Ah, you're young. Don't worry. When the time is right, you will figure it out, I know you will. And when you do, and you know what you need to do, then I will be with you." And though wasted, she had looked almost like she used to, until she finished speaking. Then she fell back onto the bed, sapped of energy, and almost immediately fell asleep.  
Genim stood there for the rest of the night, watching her peacefully features.]

Stiles awoke as if his head had been thrust underwater while he mouth was still open, coughing a sputtering.  
That dream...was not a dream. It was a memory. Stiles knew his dreams. Maybe it was a side effect of his ADHD, or just his general weirdness, but Stiles' dreams had always been unmistakable. Fictional characters mingled, mixed, and merged with people he knew, and scenes changed every few seconds. No, this was a memory. One he had blocked before tonight.  
But had his mother been talking about? Before he knew, Stiles was out of bed, booting up his laptop.  
"Death of Marie Stilinski" he typed into the town's Newspaper archive site. He chewed on his thumbnail as he waited for the articles to be pulled up.  
He had always seen his mother's death from his point of view, or possibly his father's, but he had never looked into the public details of her death.

Dr. Marie Grace Stilinski, known affectionately to her friends and family as Maggie, was an up-and-coming doctor at James Baker Memorial Clinic in Beacon Hills, California, and a woman of vision.  
The actual founding doctor of the clinic, which was named in honor of her father, who diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer's some twenty years ago, Dr. Maggie was a veritable genius, and had been a medical prodigy in her early years.Perhaps that is what made her sudden death so traumatizing and bitterly ironic.  
As an innovator, Dr. Maggie was well on her way to a shot at the Noble Peace Prize for her research on the curing of genetic diseases when she was tragically struck down by a careless mistake.  
Doctors believe that, exposed to dangerous chemicals that the young scientist was testing, Dr. Maggie's benign cancerous lump in her left breast was immediately developed into a threat. Also, the strange chemicals mutated the cells, accelerating the disease and adding terrifying new symptoms. The brilliant young doctor was dead with three weeks.  
An hour after her death, James Baker Memorial Clinic was burned to the ground. The police suspected a new intern, Kevin Michaelis, who was "practically obsessed" with Dr. Maggie. The young man was never prosecuted for the arson, and soon afterwards moved to Los Angeles.  
Today, Dr. Marie Grace "Maggie" Stilinski is remebered affectionately by all who knew her as the young woman, mother, wife, who could have changed the world. And who knows, even though all her research was lost in the fire, someday, we might discover a hidden fingerprint that this amazing woman may have left on the world.

Stiles leaned back and stared. Somehow, he had never known the story of his mother's death. Yes, as he grew older, he had often thought about how quickly the cancer destroyed her, but he never knew...he never knew any of this.  
And there were plenty of questions running through his head, especially in light of his recently recovered memory, as well as the current goings-on in Beacon Hills. It was entirely possible that his mother had been killed by something supernatural. After all, if wackos like Kate Argent had lived in this town for years, who knew what else had been here?  
Well, he was going to find out. From now on, Scott, Derek, the Pack, the Alpa Pack, the Argents, and even his father were going to have take second burner. It was time to find out the truth about his mother.  
And, once he had the truth, he would avenge her...


	2. Change is Always Painful

CHAPTER TWO: CHANGE IS ALWAYS PAINFUL

If you had told Stiles years ago that his mother has been a genius with possible supernatural enemies, he would have laughed hysterically in your face. But things were changing.  
Turns out that a fuck-ton of genetic diseases are passed down from supernatural creatures. Even werewolves themselves mostly either mated other werewolves of turned their mates before conceiving children to lessen the risk of deformity and other genetics related crap. And his mom had been on the verge of a breakthrough in methods to correct and control them.   
So who the fuck would want to stop her?  
Oh, that's right...djinns. No, seriously, that's how they get their briskest business. Stiles was kinda surprised, and kinda not, at how many mothers posted something or other on the internet about how they traded their souls to the djinn is exchange for the health of their offspring. Of course, though, it was to his advantage.  
So, djinns then. Now all he needed to find out was what exactly they are, what they do, how to find them, where to find them, and how to kill them, hopefully without dying in the process. Sounds easy. And the sad part is, he's not even really joking. Yeah, close encounters with kanimas can do that to a person.  
Like most supernatural creatures, djinns had their fangirls and boys, who posted pages of info on the beasts. Fortunately, however, he had found a website made by some people who didn't shy away from letting you know how to kill the numerous creatures in their index. Of course, not all of them were accurate, as that incident last week with the ghoul-thing proved so well, but it was getting that he could pretty much tell which ones were obviously fake.  
Unfortunately however, djinns were like...damn, who could kill those bitches?!  
"Son of a bitch," hissed Stiles under his breath as he rubbed his face harshly and stared at his laptop screen. The things were super-powerful, reminding him of the Trickster from his favorite show, Supernatural. They could create and destroy, it seemed, with a blink of their eye (or snap of their fingers), and while you could try to sneak up on them and kill the, like on Supernatural, Stiles wasn't quite sure he was up to the Winchester's level of Awesome. The other more sure-fire way was to kill them was through some sort of crazy ass ritual. A crazy ass ritual that you needed magic for.  
If Deaton was to be believed, Stiles had some magic, but it wasn't nearly strong enough or controlled enough, and, last time he had spoken to the mysterious vet, the man had made it clear that there was not much else he could do for the teen.  
Stiles huffed and threw his head back, glaring at the ceiling in frustration. What was he supposed to do now? There seemed to be no way to get those fuckers back for what they had done, and it was majorly rankling him that he now knew who, or what, had killed his mother, but had no available way to get them for it . He hissed again.   
And then he crumpled out of his chair and fell to the ground with a sharp scream, his head hitting the corner of his desk.  
Everything felt woozy and far-off, his eyesight dimmed into near darkness. He could barely make out a shadow that seemed to be creeping towards him, and Stiles thought vaguely to himself that it must be one of the Pack.But who ever it was was a bad, bad, BAD friend, because they didn't seem to do anything to help him. In fact, he started to feel even worse.  
It felt like something else of his almost exact same mass was trying to crush itself into his body along with him. His skin felt like it was a second away from splitting and fracturing, allowing his guts would come spilling out of the cracks. His blood boiled like it was ready to boil an egg, and his head was just about to explode into a million billion little bloody pieces all over his floor, he's not even joking.  
Then Stiles muscles began to quiver and jerk withour his permission, dancing in pain. His eyes, nose, and ears burned like hell, but that wasn't even the worst part.  
No, that was when his crotch decided to dive into the merry world of endless exploding, cracking, burning, quivering, boiling P-A-I-N. He would have screamed, but he was in too much pain.  
Finally, after what felt like eternity, his body stopped torturing him, and his back, which he had unknowingly been arching, slowly settled back down on the carpet. He still decided to just sit there a while, you know, because he was pretty sure that if he got up just then, he would lose control of his bladder, his bowels, and his stomach.  
After what was probably about twenty minutes according to his watch, which also told him that whatever had just happened to him had taken all of about five minutes, tops, he finally felt well enough to get up and stagger over to the bathroom, looking over the carpet burn on his mostly bare skin.  
When he got there, he looked at his reflection in the mirror, and promptly let out another shamefully girly scream...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what do ya know! I actually ended up writing more today! I'm probably more surprised than you are! Anywho, I hope you enjoy, chickies, and leave me a note if you want to. I open to suggestions, even though Ii do have a pretty clear idea for the next few chapters as well as the over all story. Thanks for reading!
> 
> Hey, the only dialog in this chappie is "son of a bitch"! It makes me think of Dean Winchester...


	3. The Awakening of a Mind

CHAPTER THREE: THE AWAKENING OF A MIND

Boobs. There were definite boobs on his chest. He's not even joking, though he so SO wishes he was.   
Okays, so they were actually really small, so, as long as he wore many layers of loose clothes, easy, and didn't jump up and down or anything, not so easy, considering his lifestyle, they would be virtually unnoticable. But then, there was the rest of his body.  
Not that he was carrying a buncha junk in his trunk, but he certainly had a nice pair of hips on him, and his thighs now looked much girlier. Turning around quickly, Stiles checked his back view. Yup, that ass was a bit more bootylicious than it normally was. And now, he was scared to look between his legs, but remembering the pain from before, he was pretty sure he knew what he was gonna see.  
All the same, he pulled down his tighty-whiteys, and there it was...a fucking vagina. It was behind his cock, a plump little slit hidden between his legs. He was way to scared to touch it. Still freaked out, he moved on, checking the rest of his body's differences. He was still pretty hairy, and he wasn't any shorter, and his face was mostly the same, however, he got the distinct impression that with the right touches of make up, he would look unquestionably female.  
His hair had also grown out, that wasn't a problem. He had scissors and clippers in here, so that could be back to normal in no time. And maybe his chest was little smaller, his shoulders a little less broad, but with the power of baggy clothing and his the aforementioned hair cutting acoutrements, he would be back to looking like his usual self in no time!  
But wait...would he get periouds now? Oh fuckballs.  
{0]---[o}[0}___{o]  
The day at school was...interesting. Stiles spent most of his classes with the pack stressing over if they were going to notice the differences or not, and, when not engaged with the aforementioned, agonizing over the unfairness of it all.  
When Isaac, Erica, and, to a lesser degree, Boyd first got changed, they started to act like they ruled the school, and were immediately treated as such, much to Lydia and Jackson's chagrin. But no, not Stiles. Stiles has to act like nothing happened, and remain his puny little doormat self.  
Though, it's not like he turned into a badass werewolf or even a creep ass kanima, no, he turned into a cuntboy. And that's totally a thing, he looked it up. But, that's besides the point, it being, this was so fucking unfair!  
Aside from those problems, however, which were completely internal, the day was pretty much completely uneventful. Well, except from an odd look here and there, but they all seemed to shrug it off and just put it in the "Weird Shit About Stiles" folder which they all had. And he totally knows they do, because they discussed it in a pack meeting. Yeah, are his friends great or what?  
But that didn't matter. What mattered was, the school day was over, and he was home free. Now he just had a evening and night full of homework and research to do.  
Not that Stiles really knew why the fuck he was still bothering with the research crap. He had a feeling in his gut that made him all too sure that what he had dug up yesterday, or rather, at ass o'clock this morning, was all he was gonna get on the killing of djinns. Still, that was the plan.   
That is, until, as he was stepping into his room, his mind decided to go ahead and clone itself in his skull. He's not even kidding, even though that would be oh so nice. But, his brain, and, now that he thinks on it, his whole body has cloned itself within itself. Ugh, his head hurts.  
Literally, because he feels like he's looking at the room with four eyes, and smelling eau de teenage boy with two noses, and tasting the PB&J sandwich he had snacked on with two mouths. He was even feeling the clothes on his body with two, well, skins, and the ground under his feet with four feet and twenty toes. And that wasn't even the freakiest part.  
No, that was when they both started to merge, and for a moment, everything seemed to explode in a cloud of TOO MUCH TOO MUCH TOO MUCH before it settled down into too much.  
Everything was sharper, and, unfortunately, smellier, but mainly, just...more. In a strange well, he felt almost like most of his senses had been doubled.  
Yes. They were. Why? He was two. But...he was one? No, he was two. He was Stiles? He WAS Stiles? He is? He is Stiggie. He is Magiles. He is s/he. He is mother;son. He is you;me. He is I...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I hope I cleared up some questions, cuz I KNOW I just up-ended another boatfull right on top of your poor heads. Haha! Get used to it, chickies. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed (enough to leave me a comment) and please know that that last part was freaky hard to write and therefore I would appreciate your input and concrit. I love y'all!


	4. The Logistics of a Change

CHAPTER FOUR: THE LOGISTICS OF A CHANGE

This is so trippy. Because Stiles knows that he's not completely Stiles. No, wait, that's not true. He is completely Stiles. However, he is also completely Maggie. He thinks it's weird. She thinks it's weird. They think it's weird.  
If asked to explain the boundaries between them, he'd be at a loss. There would probably just be an overabundance of flailing arms and hardly any words, and that's even with a genius prodigy in his head. Of course, it could be that she has a ADHD teen boy in here head, which curtails her language skills. Again, it's weird.  
It's not that they alternate, with him being in control and then Maggie being in control. Yes, he can sometimes do something, like cleaning up his room, and notice that to be different, but he doesn't label it as "Maggie doing weird shit I never would". It's almost no different from how he felt before, in some ways.  
When he was little, he couldn't give a fuck all what his parents wanted if it was different from what he wanted. He could hardly care less about what kinda shit he put his dad through. But then he became a teenager, and he still wants to do shit that he knows his parents wouldn't want him to do, still ends up doing stuff that hurts his dad. But the difference is, he can now properly hate himself for it.  
It's like, his mind expanded out of its little sphere, and he was able to see what a different person he was now, as a teenager, than he was back then, as a nine year old boy. It was kinda the same thing. He could recognize, and even identify with Stiles pre-merging, but he was now Stiles post-merging, and everything was different.  
He wasn't even sure if he was really a he any more. He didn't really feel like one, but he didn't really feel like a she either. He was just Stiles. And he could be Maggie too, if he wanted, but why add confusion?  
So yeah, trippy. But nice. Because even though he was one, he kinda wasn't, and it was so damn cool to be alone but not at the same time, so he wasn't lonely. At all.   
Man, he wishes he'd had this part of the deal as soon as Maggie died. And that's a whole 'nother level of mindfuckery that he's not even gonna think about.  
But seriously though, there is more to being merged than being twoone, onetwo. He get's the super sight, smelling, and hearing, and hey, let's not forget the super strength and speed and BRAINS.  
Yeah, that part is probably the best part. Just think, an already pretty brainy (second in all the school) teen and a super genius doctor, all mixed into one cocktail of epic brilliance. Yeah, say hello to PWNED, chemistry homework! In short, this is pretty awesome. The body even isn't so bad. It's not like he identifies as completely male any more so, really, it's not even a big deal. So, that leaves the only problem being the Pack.  
So far, they don't seem to be able to smell his new femininity, but then again, the ones he'd been in contact with were all new werewolves, or Scott, who, let's face it, would be oblivious to the Apocalypse if Allison was even breathing in his direction. But Derek might be a problem...  
Oh. A problem easily fixed. Because apparently that intern dude, whatshisface? Kevin Michaelis? Yeah, apparently Maggie actually knows the guy. And he's a magic practioner. Because apparently he also dislikes being called wizard, warlock, or magician. Whatever.  
But this dude is great at magic, or was great at magic, and has probably gotten even better in the years since he, um, Maggie, kicked the bucket. So that's Stiles needs to go to get the training to kick some djinn ass back to wherever they came from.  
And, in such a nice little deus ex machina, graduation day is coming up fast, and he just so happens to have gotten in to none other than UCLA. He hadn't really been planning on accepting, but with his newfound need to be in L.A., this was more that perfect.  
Great, so now all he needs is to weather out two more months here in Beacon Hills without drawing unwanted attention to himself before he leaves. But then, knowing his group of annoyingly clingy friend...like people, someone may want to go with him.  
He knows Allison and by extenstion Scott are going to some school in New York, he can't remember, Danny is headed to Geogia Tech, Jackson is on his was to Harvard, and Lydia to MIT, while the rest are leaning towards community college.  
So what's the best way to make sure they keep leaning that way?  
Oh. How simple. Ah, he just loves it when a plan comes together...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this is one of those necessary chapters that set up for the ones after it, so please bear with me, though I know it was hardly titillating. Also, I hope I did a good job explaining the merging and logistics of Stiles and Maggie, as well as tell you a bit more about the previous psychology of Stiles in my head canon. Why do I say previous? Because it is about to change! MWAHAHAHAHAHA!
> 
> But no, seriously, I plan for things to pick up again next chapter, but that's not an ironclad promise that it will, as there will be some more set-up necessary. Also, some flashbacks will happen.
> 
> I'm so sorry that it took me so long, but, what can I say, chickies, except that RL has a nasty way of getting you during the week, especially the beginning, so I wrote pretty much all of it in about 30 minutes. (Probably why it's so short!)  
> So please and enjoy and drop me a review if you want!


	5. Meeting Kevin

Stiles has to admit, being a dick to the wolf pack was kinda fun. After being given the douche-wolf routine so many times for so long, it was pretty sweet to turn the tables on 'em. Well, until Isaac went all "kicked puppy eyes" at him, and he settled for just ignoring the fuck out of them. At that point, he had alienated them so well, that it wasn't as hard as it could have been.  
He was relieved, don't get him wrong, but it kinda hurt too that they didn't even stop to really question his behavior, as if Stiles becoming an utter dick was something not exactly expected, but perhaps not particularly surprising.  
Stiles wonders if it came up in pack meetings. "In the Likely(?) Eventuality of Stiles Becoming a Douche". What an interesting discussion that would have been. But whatever.  
Maggie had memories, also, of being let down and carelessly misunderstood. Apparently, that was a common thing for genii of the non-semi-evil variety, like Lydia. It was unfortunate, but certainly surmountable.  
And besides, here, breathing in the salty air on a golden beach in L. fucking A., Stiles suddenly found himself not quite so bothered. The time had come for learning and training and...becoming. There'd be time enough for teenage angst later; apparently, Kevin Michaelis waits for no wo/man.  
But he didn't seem to have trouble letting a wo/man wait for him, however. Stiles had been waiting at the agreed meeting point, Cafe Le Coeur, for twenty minutes, and the waitress was sending him half pitying, half impatient looks.  
But finally, Kevin appeared.  
Stiles didn't know what he had been expecting...well, no he did. He expected an anemically thin, awkward boy barely out of his teens, with vampiricly pale skin, coke bottle glasses, and a bowl cut to make a Vulcan green(er) with envy. It was how Maggie remembered him.  
But this guy was older now, in his late twenties, with a moderately muscled torso, a dark tan, thin reflective glasses perched neatly on the tip of his now slightly crooked nose, and thick black hair pulled into a neat ponytail at the nape of his neck. He was actually quite handsome, in an unconventional way, as he was too striking to be called ugly, but, again, too striking to be called outright handsome.  
Kevin was dressed simply, in a white wife beater and dark wash jeans barely hanging on to his jutting hipbones. His shoes, battered combat boots, made thunking noises as he sauntered over and plopped himself down unceremoniously in his seat. His bushy brows cocked drolly.  
"Stiles Stilinski, I presume?"  
"Yeah, that's me. How'd you guess?" I asked, taking a sip of my raspberry lemonade.  
"Y'look like your mama," he shrugged, waving absentmindedly for the waitress to stay away.  
"So, you wanna get down to business, or...?"  
"Yeah, got things to do. You say you wanna learn how to handle you magic, right?"  
"Yes. But you mentioned something about you knowing how to make it grow?" I fiddled with my glass, wondering if this was the part where he declared that all I needed to do was kill a few babies and stomp a few puppies. He grinned suddenly, white, slightly crooked teeth flashing against his tan. I wondered if he read minds.  
"Indeed. But that takes some time kid. It ain't an 'abracadabra, BOOM, it's done' thing. You sure ready for this? I ain't trying to insult you, kid, but this could take years, depending on how long it takes you to see the big picture," he warned. I smirked, and shrugged.  
"I think I can handle it." Maggie may not have had much knowledge about magic, or even talent, but between the two of us, I was pretty sure we had it down. Kevin nodded amiably, before springing up suddenly in his chair and leaping over it to pin me by my throat.  
"Rule numero uno, kid, always be prepared. This is a very mad world, and you never know all the threats in the shadows. Keep your guard up," he lectured coolly, while I gaped, sweat itching as it dripped down my tense back.  
I glanced around, waiting for one of the patrons or waiters to raise a cry, but they went about their business with not a glance our way. In fact, no one at all was even looking in our corner in any way. My eyes narrowed and I looked back up into Kevin's dark eyes.  
"Magic. You're shielding us from their notice somehow, like in Harry Potter," I hypothesized. He shot me a bright grin as he backed off and settled back into his seat.  
"Bingo, mi amigo. Now let's eat al-fucking-ready; I'm starved!" And with that he beckoned the waitress over so we could order. I realized that the wave he gave her earlier was likely magic as well.  
Maggie knew this man, and trusted him implicitly, but both of us were aware that whoever, whatever he might have been, Kevin Michaelis was now a dangerous wizard, and I would do well to watch my back.

**Author's Note:**

> This plot bunny just pounced on me in the shower...*looks at the grossed out reader* No! Not like that, you pervert! But anyway, I knew I just had to write it! Hopefully, updates will be semi-frequent, because I have big plans for this fic, as you can probably tell by the multitude of WTF tags. Oh well. Also, I know this is short (but hopefully sweet?) but, in my defense, it looked like more on Word! *Sighs* I suck. Anywho, see you next fic (unless you wanna drop me a little note, which I won't say no to)!  
> Also, I know next to nothing about Polish (? I think the Stilinskis are Polish. Or is that rascist?) culture, so I'm not sure if his mother would call him "bubbelah", but I've seen it in another fic so, what the hell, right?


End file.
